This is a transcript from Samantha Copper’s presentation at The Tenth Annual Ritual Abuse, Secretive Organizations and Mind Control Conference, August, 2007.
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Building
Bridges
Samantha Cooper is a survivor of alleged mind control, Masonic cult and extreme familial abuse with a diagnosis of Dissociative Identity Disorder and poly fragmented multiple (MPD). Originally diagnosed and treated for partial complex epilepsy, many years ago, her condition was correctly diagnosed as a dissociative disorder. After 10 years of intensive therapy, she is a much happier and changed (though not totally integrated) person. Her topic is “Building Bridges.”
Please
use caution while reading to this presentation. It may be very heavy for
survivors. All accusations are alleged. The conference is educational and not
intended as therapy or treatment.
CONFERENCE PRESENTATION 2007
BUILDING BRIDGES
SAMANTHA COOPER
Three years
ago, in August of 2004, I was a speaker at this conference. It is a fairly long journey by car to
get here from my home. I was here
for the entire conference, Friday evening through Sunday afternoon, speaking,
attending sessions and talking with the other participants.
To a few
people I mentioned that I had pain in my back, neck and shoulders, but I
didn’t let it affect my participation.
At that
conference I spoke on my experiences with dissociation, and with having
Dissociative Identity Disorder, how this affected my life, the process I was
following to heal from the abuse in my childhood, and the things that had changed
for me.
After I
returned home from the conference, because the pain was nearly unbearable, even
for me, I finally went to a doctor.
They did an
x-ray in the office and the radiologist’s report came back that I needed
an immediate MRI. The results of
the MRI were that I had a severely compressed spinal cord, a severely
compressed disk in the C5 (cervical) area, severe stenosis of the spine and no
spinal fluid in that area.
The doctor
read the MRI report, checked my reflexes, discovered that I had almost no
reflexes on the right side of my body, and left me in the examining room while
he called a neurosurgeon.
He came back
and told me that I would be seeing a neurosurgeon either that evening or early
the next morning. And to do NOTHING
that in any way might jar my head, neck or back.
He also said
that I must have an incredibly high tolerance for pain because he could not
believe I was sitting in a chair talking to him when I should have been in
excruciating unbearable pain.
He said most
people would be lying on the floor groaning in pain, unable to move, with this
kind of an injury. He asked how on earth I was coping with the pain.
He gave me a
very strong prescription pain medication and told me to begin taking it
immediately.
I saw the
neurosurgeon the next morning.
It was his
day off, so I was the only patient in the office. He examined the MRI films,
and examined me. We then went into his office to discuss his findings.
He said
“This is where I would usually discuss your options; only in your case
you have no options. You need immediate surgery.”
He asked if I
had eaten breakfast. I had, so he
considered whether to admit me and perform the surgery that day.
For the next
hour I waited in his waiting room, as his staff made calls trying to find an
anesthesiologist and a surgical team to perform the surgery. This was just
before Labor Day weekend; so many doctors were out of town.
I was very
fortunate in that the neurosurgeon had been at a renowned NYC medical center
for 8 years and had only recently moved into the area. He had extensive
experience in this surgery, and had performed over 800 of this particular
procedure with only one minor complication.
Finally his
staff was able to arrange for the surgery on Friday morning.
The
neurosurgeon gave me very strict instructions about being very careful. He said
he didn’t want me to ride in a car, that I couldn’t get bumped even
by a large dog, and if I had one to have it put away somewhere. I was not to do
anything at all that might in any way bump me or cause any movement or stress
to my spine.
My spine was
in a very precarious condition. The
likely out come if this was not corrected immediately was that I would be a
quadriplegic on a ventilator or dead. Neither seemed a good outcome to me.
You all are
familiar with Christopher Reeve’s accident. Well, this was the same kind
of injury.
Now this is
an excellent example of dissociation at work and how dissociating to this
extent can be detrimental to your well being. This is an extreme example of why the
trauma and dissociation must be worked on.
If you are
dissociative, and most if not all survivors of trauma are, then you really have
no option but to work on this. It
affects your life in more ways than you can imagine.
I often hear
speakers say that dissociation was a blessing when we were children and how it
saved our lives. And that is very true, without the ability to dissociate the
trauma and the reality of my existence; I certainly would not have survived my childhood.
My sister,
who had the ability to dissociate, and also has DID, is living a fairly normal
existence.
My brother,
who for whatever reasons, did not develop the ability to dissociate as well as
we had, has had an extremely messy, difficult life and long history of
unsuccessful psychiatric treatment.
After you are
an adult and no longer in an abusive environment dissociation to the extent
that it allows you to totally ignore an extremely painful, dangerous medical
condition is a liability.
What worked
as a child, is not only no longer necessary, it impedes your present day
existence and relationships.
To put my
talk in context I need to tell you some of my history.
I am a
survivor of alleged familial,
cult, and Mind Control abuse. I
have a diagnosis of Dissociative Identity Disorder, a complex polyfragmented
multiple.
My paternal
grandfather, great grandfather, father and uncle were high level Masons. My
memories of the cult experiences center on these people. My brother, sister and
I were involved in cult rituals.
There was
incest, with both parents and other relatives as perpetrators, and child
pornography.
My
mother’s behavior was erratic, at best. It was extremely difficult living
with her since her behavior was totally unpredictable.
My father was
absent from home much of the time.
When he was home, he would go from being very energetic and
“up” to being withdrawn, remote and quiet, unaware of things around
him.
In the
earlier years he and my mother had horrendous, violent fights. Alcohol and drug use played a part
in these arguments.
My maternal
Aunt worked for the State Department. My Uncle, her husband, was a civilian
attached to the Air Force.
Both had high
level security clearances. My aunt traveled extensively all over the world in
her job. This was very unusual for
a woman in those times.
My sister and
I believe that these two people were instrumental in our becoming subjects in
the mind control projects.
I believe I
was enrolled in the mind control program when I was about 5.
It is my
belief that my parents were paid for my sister’s and my participation in
the programs.
After I
started therapy, I encouraged my sister to find a therapist familiar with DID.
My sister had been diagnosed with and treated for manic/depression, rapid
cycling bipolar, or borderline personality disorder at various times over the
years.
It is not
surprising that she also, has DID.
That is a
very brief synopsis of my background.
The only way
that I know to deal with the dissociation and heal from the childhood trauma is
through remembering and recognizing the experiences.
By processing
the traumatic memory so that it becomes normal, non traumatic memory.
Processing the
memories, recognizing and remembering what happened in your past allows you to
function better in your present day life.
This process
is what I am referring to as “building bridges”. Because that is
what you are doing.
It is what I
now recognize I have been doing in my therapy. I am building bridges between my
past as a child, and my present as an adult.
I am
beginning to connect the dots so that the things that were so traumatic they
caused me to create alters, are becoming memory and a part of who I am.
I hope that
it doesn’t take anything as drastic as a severely compressed spinal cord
to encourage you to work on the trauma.
I can tell
you that the surgery on my spine was a very strong reinforcement to me to work
on eliminating the dissociative barriers that keep me from experiencing
physical pain.
I worked on
recognizing and acknowledging pain in many of my therapy sessions after the
surgery. I still have to be reminded to pay attention to my body and what is
going on.
I am better
at this, but still not great.
I recognize
that two very strong deterrents to remembering and processing traumatic
memories are the feelings of fear and shame that are attached to the memories
and the threats that were made to me as a child by the alleged perpetrators.
These threats
will no doubt sound familiar to some of you.
There was the
“nobody will believe you” and the “they’ll just think
you are crazy and then you will be committed, locked up forever. And you know
that we control those places.”
The threat
that if I ever told or remembered, I would fly apart into a million pieces and
no one could ever put me back together (this was a convincing argument for
someone who was polyfragmented multiple).
I was to
commit suicide rather than tell anyone.
Someone would come and get me if I told.
And of
course, the one that is most bizarre to think about was that I had a bomb in my
head that would explode if I ever told.
All these
were powerful threats to a child.
In my last
presentation at this conference I said, “Each time I work through a
memory it is just as difficult and frightening as the first time, even if this
the thousandth time I've done this”. That is not quite accurate for how
it feels now.
When
remembering and processing the trauma, I am back there, the child again. But after all these years of therapy, it
is not the same as it was when I started out.
I know right
away that this is a memory, and that it is not happening today. I know that this happened to me, that I
was this child.
I also know,
from having done this many times, that the feelings will subside fairly quickly
once I have dealt with the memory. And I know that each memory or painful
experience that I recall and work on represents many other similar experiences.
When I work
on this one memory, other memories are defused so they no longer bother
me. I don’t have to go into
the detail of everything that ever happened to me. That is important to
remember.
I recognize that
what is happening as I discuss these painful, horrible memories in my sessions
is that I am bringing the experiences that were frozen in my child’s
mind, into the present where they can be examined and dealt with from an
adult’s perspective.
Yes, the
memory is, at first, intact and horrible, just as it was “back
then”. It is as if I have somehow shrunk down to child size and am
reliving it just as it happened.
But on some
level, I am also aware as the adult me what I am seeing, hearing, experiencing.
I am aware of
the feeling of the child me.
I am acutely
aware of the feelings of terror and the horrible shame that I was somehow a
terribly defective child.
And as an
adult, I can understand it is natural that as a child I felt this way. But it is not true.
I was not a
terrible, disgusting child who did shameful things. I was just a child who had terrible,
disgusting things done TO her.
I did not
originate these acts and I had no control over my participation.
While I am
progressing in therapy, and things have improved for me, I do not want to
minimize the difficulty of working on the trauma or present myself as being
“cured” of all my problems.
Anyone
working on retrieving memories and recovering from severe trauma knows that
this is difficult work. It is
tedious and it is emotionally and physically exhausting at times.
It does get
easier as you go along. The difference it makes in your life, in your ability
to function, in feeling comfortable in your own skin, in freedom from constant
panic, that makes it a worthwhile effort.
Ok, so how
does this affect me in how I now am able to live my life, compared to when I
first started working on this?
Well, first
off, let me say it is hard to live in the present without dissociation when that
is how you are accustomed to functioning.
It is odd,
and unsettling, when something that is emotionally charged happens, and you are
stuck there, having to feel it and know it and wonder what the heck you are
supposed to do now?
What is the
“normal” response?
Well, I have
learned that normal is whatever you do. That is normal, for you.
Being normal
was a huge concern to me in the past.
I worried
about whether my reactions were normal, and how would a normal person react in
this situation?
But, as a
wonderful psychiatrist told me, “Why would you want to be normal?
I recognize
on an almost daily basis reactions or emotions I have that are rooted in the
past.
It is difficult
to recognize that I am reacting not because of this particular situation, which
if taken in isolation would be no big deal.
I am reacting
as I am because of my history.
And because I
am aware of that, I can often stop myself and reassess what I am doing before I
go any further.
But not
Always.
I don’t
have to second guess myself constantly. After a while you become very adept at
recognizing the kinds of situations that are apt to cause you problems.
If I can
recognize that I might have a problem here, I can often use my internal
resources and techniques to prepare myself for what I am going to do.
The surgery I
had is a perfect example of this.
I know that I
am severely claustrophobic, so I knew that I had to prepare for the MRI.
I know that
any hospital setting or laboratory type setting is going to be a problem for
me, surgery and anesthesia especially, so I discussed it with my parts ahead of
time and took steps to explain what was happening and why.
I said,
“Yes, when you were little, this happened to you. That was a horrible
time. There was pain, it was frightening and you had no control over what was
going on. But this is a
totally different situation. I have
a problem here and the doctors are going to fix that problem. They are here to
help, not hurt me”.
This is
building bridges between the past and the present so that the experiences in my
past do not cause me as great a difficulty in the present.
I recognize
and acknowledge what happened in the past.
By doing this, I am able to handle situations in the present more
effectively.
As I have
progressed in dealing with my past, one of the most significant changes has
been that I do not have to work so hard at staying grounded in the present. The
present is just naturally where I live most of the time.
I experience
myself as an adult living in today. I do not have to constantly remind myself
that I am an adult, that no one is going to hurt me.
I do not have
the uneasy feeling that there is something out there somewhere waiting to
ambush me or turn my world upside down.
I now know
that the “something” I feared was not outside, it was inside me all
along.
At least, that is true since I grew up
and was no longer in a cult or mind control program.
It was the
fear instilled in me first by my parents, then reinforced by my experiences in
the cult, and then tuned and refined by the mind control programmers.
This was fear
instilled in a helpless child whose understanding and development was that of a
child.
That level of
development is what the programmers counted on. They manipulated the situations to take
advantage of a child’s lack of understanding and knowledge.
This living
in the present, becoming a functioning adult who reacts and acts from what is
happening in the present, rather than from the huge attempt at hiding what was
in my past and was in my head, is really hard on long term relationships.
It has been
extremely difficult on my relationship with my husband.
After all,
the woman he met and married behaved in a certain way. We have been married for many years, and
it has only been in the very recent past 5 to 6 years, that I have come out of
the fog in which I lived and been able to recognize what is going on around
me.
The person I
was, the way I related to my husband, all of that has changed.
There are
reasons that I was attracted to this man, and reasons why he was attracted to
me.
We suited
each other then. We were both expert at ignoring the other’s
“foibles”. We had a sort of unspoken pact that “I’ll
ignore your stuff if you ignore mine”.
It worked
really well for us for many years. It does not work so well now.
This is not
to say that we don’t get along. It is a continuous series of
adjustments. And since I am the one
who has had 11 years of intensive therapy, I am aware that I am the one who has
caused all this disruption in the way we relate.
We have been
very fortunate to work with an excellent family therapist who has helped us
over the rough spots. And there have been many.
It is
actually very healthy that we both are learning new ways to cope and relate to
each other. At least that is what I keep telling myself.
It most
certainly is not easy or comfortable.
Some
“adjustments” become rather volcanic feeling.
It is not so
much, I believe, that these would appear to be much different than what other
couples do.
It is that I
was afraid of feelings in the past, and most definitely was not good at
asserting myself or dealing with conflict. So what to others may appear fairly
minor FEELS huge and scary to me.
This is
another form of building bridges. Our old way of relating did not really work
very well for either of us. So now we are building new bridges and new
connections that are ultimately more satisfying (if difficult to negotiate) for
us both.
On a
dissociative, trauma, polyfragmented multiple level, there are other bridges
going up.
I have long
asserted that I am not and never expect to be fully integrated, whatever that
means.
I have
observed many others with my history, who also “were” multiples
assert that they are now “fully integrated”.
And then they
proceed to use different child like voices in describing different
situations. Or they use
“we” when others would use “me”. Or someone tells me
that they have uncovered a new memory (and an associated alter) years after
they had become “totally integrated”.
So I have
been highly skeptical when I am told of someone who was a multiple but is now
totally integrated.
Yeah, right.
However,
(here is the however), I am becoming more and more aware of a certain lack of
company in my head. I use the
pronoun me more and more in place of “we”. Because frequently there
is no “we”. At least,
not in the old sense.
And the
reason for this is that all these internal bridges have been built.
There is no
longer a pressing need for my parts to push forward with their thoughts or
opinions. In most cases, it is a seamless flowing of information.
That is not
to say that I can’t find an alter if I need to. I am certain that most of
them are still around in some form. They have simply given up acting
independently.
Not all of
them, and not all the time, but certainly more often than I ever imagined
possible.
The
recognition of the memories the alters held in the past does something else. It
is beginning to give me a sense of having been a child.
I have often
said that it would not have surprised me to learn that I was dropped out of the
sky by aliens as a full grown adult.
I simply had
no feeling or memory of having been a child.
Now I can
actually remember things that happened to me in a sketchy timeline. I have a
sense that this preceded that, and this was a result of what happened before.
To me the
memories were always distinct, isolated instances, not connected to any thing
else. They were just there, terrifying distinct memories. The smell, the feel, the sights, the
feelings were all centered around this one incident with no recognition that
other things led up to this; or that other things happened afterwards.
Of course, I
knew, in my adult self, that there had to be a before and an after. But it
simply was impossible for me to have any sense of that.
That was more
frightening than I can possibly describe.
Not having a
context made me feel that there was no end to the memories, the fear, and the
shame.
It felt like
there could well be an infinite number of terrifying permutations of the same
experience. That is truly what I
feared, that this was a never ending series of horrible memories.
It happened
slowly, piece by piece, without my being aware that it was even happening.
PAUSE.
One day I
remembered a particular scene and realized that this happened shortly after
something I had remembered long before. And then I remembered a training camp
which was the same time and place as in a prior memory.
And so I have
slowly come to recognize the connections between what were once distinct,
separate, and overwhelming situations.
Things do not seem so bizarre and frightening when you can see them in
relation to the other things that occurred at the same time.
I have begun
to get a sense of having been in a particular place at a particular time and
that these different memories are all snippets of what happened then and there.
I have begun
to see that there was a plan, a set of rules that were followed. It wasn’t all random acts of
terrible things performed by monsters.
At many
conferences I have heard from speakers the importance of forgiveness in your healing. I have often read that forgiveness is
for you, not the other person.
Every time I
heard this word I shuddered because I was absolutely certain that there was no
way that I was ever going to forgive any of these people.
Fortunately
my therapist quietly told me that forgiveness is not necessary to heal. That I could heal without forgiving the
perpetrators. She understood my
anger at what was done to me.
And yet,
after all these years of remembering childhood events, I have found myself in a
very strange position. I have come
to feel quite comfortable in forgiving my parents, and other perpetrators.
I looked up
the definition of forgiveness and it is “to give up resentment of or
claim to requital for” or “to cease to feel resentment against (an
offender)”.
And that is
where I am now. I will never
understand what went on in the minds of any of the alleged perpetrators. I can never know what motivated them.
And it
doesn’t really make a difference.
I am doing the best I can, and what happened in the past is over. I cannot change it. Resentment does not in any way change
what happened, and it certainly does not make me feel better.
I am most
definitely not trying to persuade anyone else to forgive anything that was done
to them.
That is
something that you decide on your own, if and when you ever feel it is valid in
your life. If you don’t wish
to forgive your perpetrators, whoever they may be, that is your right.
Each
person’s journey to dealing with their past is theirs and no one
else’s.
I am saying
that I am very surprised that I am able to forgive. I believe it is because I have been able
to accept and express the anger, hurt, and sadness that I felt. When I was able to acknowledge that, I
began to feel differently about the ones who harmed me.
This is not
“letting them off the hook.”
This is about letting go of my resentment so that I feel calmer and
happier, and do not have that sore spot any longer that caused me so much pain
every time I brushed up against it.
I did not
decide to forgive anyone, it just happened as an offshoot of working through my
feelings.
There are
many things I am still working on and I expect this will be the case for the
rest of my life.
I have huge
issues with trust and control. I still occasionally go into a frantic cleaning
mode when I am feeling anxious or overwhelmed. This past week I took down all the
curtains in my house washed and re-hung them and cleaned all the windows, no
doubt because I was coming to this conference.
These are
things that I cope with. I
don’t believe this makes me unusual. I feel certain that people who did
not come from an abusive background have issues they must deal with also.
Building
bridges between the past and the present not only lessens the symptoms from the
trauma, it facilitates building bridges in other areas of your life.
Personal
relationships improve, panic attacks can be minimized or eliminated, and for
me, at least, there is a comfort in knowing my past and understanding my
reactions.
It is far
less traumatic and stressful now that I have worked through some of this. I
don’t think it ever goes away entirely, but it is bearable.
As I recently
told my therapist, there is a feeling of calm in my head which is
disconcerting. In the past, though
I wasn’t really recognizing it, there was this constant feeling of things
caroming around in my head. Now
when I lay in bed at night, there is often calm and quiet.
This is
actually difficult to get used to.
Admittedly it
still sometimes requires the intervention of my therapist for me to deal with
feelings.
When I do
recognize and acknowledge the feelings, however painful they are at that moment,
afterwards there is an increased feeling of peace in the center of my body.
In speaking
here today, I’d like to offer a sense of hope to those going through a
process similar to mine. I don’t want to minimize the struggle or
difficulty of the work because anyone going through this is going to know it is
really difficult.
There is no
magic that fixes things. I do think
it is possible to work through this, though, and definitely worth the effort.
It is possible to heal from trauma and have a much easier, more satisfying
life.